


Free Minutes

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-16
Updated: 2010-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's phone only ever rings once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free Minutes

Castiel's phone only ever rings once. Dean doesn't have a clue how he always manages to answer it so fast. Though he did once have a pretty damn funny mental image of the angel sat somewhere just holding his phone and staring at it.

"Dean," Castiel's voice on the other end is warm and familiar.

"Hey," Dean says easily, tossing his boots up on the end of the bed. "What you up to?"

"I am unoccupied at present," Castiel offers.

"I was just hanging around the motel room post-hunt," Dean tells him. "Sam's got his own room next door."

"You wish to have sex," Castiel says firmly.

"I never said that," Dean protests. Because that hadn't been his _very_ first thought. Honestly, sometimes they make it sound like he never thinks of anything else.

"Dean, I've told you before that you don't need to feel uncomfortable. I have no problem fulfilling your sexual needs."

Which is so very _Castiel_.

"Cas, you can't just _say_ that." Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me you're alone at least?"

"Yes," Castiel says simply.

"Yes, you're alone?"

"I'm alone," Castiel confirms.

Well thank God for small favours. Because Dean's been trying to encourage Castiel not to embarrass himself when he's alone as well as with them. Sometimes he swears the angel does it on purpose.

"Cas, if you don't want to, all you've gotta do is say so, y'know," Dean reminds him, always reminds him. Because it's not like he's making Castiel do anything he doesn’t want to. It's not like he really even asks. It's always the angel's decision.

"Tell me where you are," Castiel demands, in that special way he has. Like he finds the idea of not knowing where Dean is all the time continually frustrating.

Dean eyeballs the phone,

"You're kind of bossy on the phone, you know that?"

"Dean," Castiel protests. There'd be a sigh on the other end if Castiel made a habit of them.

"Maybe I should make you work for it," Dean decides, grinning at the crappy wallpaper across from the bed.

He kind of likes the air of quizzical bewilderment that manages to drift through the phone at that. He can even picture the face the angel will be wearing on the other end. That folded up squinty one that makes him look like he's unhappy the world makes everything so _difficult_. Dean kind of secretly likes that one.

"What would you like me to do, Dean?" Castiel's voice is rough, and curious like he really wants to know.

Dean slides his way to a sit, he imagines Castiel stood somewhere in the dark, maybe by the side of a road somewhere, waiting for him to speak.

"I want you to jerk off while I watch." Dean thinks he manages to make it sound like a lazy suggestion. Though he figures if it's a little bit harder, a little bit greedier, it won't matter all that much.

"I believe that is not overly demanding," Castiel tells him carefully, after a pause.

Which is, yeah, Dean wasn't exactly expecting the angel to agree so easily.

"I think I would like you on your knees while I do it," Castiel adds, voice dark and even lower than his usual ridiculous tone. Dean's inhale gets trapped in his throat. He thinks maybe he makes a noise which isn't manly at all.

"You do, huh."

Dean squeezes the phone, licks his lips and struggles to make his voice flat. Because, he's fairly sure this is the only time Castiel can't see straight through him.

"I don't know, I'm stubborn like that, Cas, you might need to make sure I stay there."

"You are disobedient," Castiel agrees quietly.

Dean takes a breath.

"You want me to suck you a little bit, just enough to make you wet, to make it easy?"

There's a quiet, breathy little inhale through the phone.

"Yes." It's a sharp, low growl of a word.

Dean presses his palm down over his dick, one quick push that's more tease than anything else.

"What else, Cas, tell me."

"I like the way you look up at me," Castiel says, voice raw. "The way you look at me, I want to see that."

"Tell me," Dean says again, voice half gone, phone creaking under his ear.

"I want to leave you wet," Castiel says shakily. "I want to drag it across your skin with my fingers."

Dean nearly drops the phone because - _Jesus Christ_ \- he's fairly sure an angel just insinuated that he wanted to come on his face. There's a fierce tug of heat low in his stomach which he's fairly sure isn't unhappy about that in the slightest.

"Fuck, Cas."

All he can hear through the phone is the rush of his own breathing.

"Pinemont motel, room seventeen," Dean manages. There isn't even a hint of steadiness in his voice any more.

He knows before he even closes the phone and turns around that there'll be an angel waiting for him.


End file.
